


Pink Houses

by sapphicsinner



Category: Glee
Genre: How Do I Tag, Klaine, Kurt Hummel - Freeform, Kurt is a dumbass, M/M, Oh, One Shot, Pink Houses- GCV, and in love duh, blaine anderson - Freeform, blaine is too, chapter 2 wont be up for a while dont wait around, finn hudson - Freeform, gay ass idiots, got the idea from twitter btw, he just doesnt know it yet, high school klaine, meet cute, mostly canon, okay im done now bye, really badly written, slight AU, their names ig, uh, um, ummmmmm, well three shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:10:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphicsinner/pseuds/sapphicsinner
Summary: when a new- possibly gay, so, so cute- boy moves in across the street, kurt's interest is piquedorin which kurts a dumbass and doesnt realize thats hes not as lowkey as hed like to be
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 12
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i got the entire idea for this from @smhanjali on twitter, cause shes hilarious and all of her ideas are literally amazing goodbye

“Geez, I didn’t know you guys had that much to move.” Kurt says as he looks out of the window, out at the street where two moving vans are double parked. He was currently sitting in the living room with his step-brother, Finn, while his father and Carole were outside talking to the movers. Finn and his mother had finally decided that it was time to move in with the Hummels, so Kurt decided to ditch his weekend plans to help out. Only, he had no idea that they would have _two moving vans_ full of what was most likely heavy furniture he’d have to help carry. Shit. “I mean, come on, how much stuff can two people have?”

Finn, who was flipping through TV channels as Kurt spoke, turns to him and peers out the window, furrowing his brows. “Uh, dude, we only have one van.”

The shorter turns to Finn in confusion, then back out the window. He watches as his dad gets in the front seat of the van- he assumes it’s the one that the Hudsons had- and drives up so that it was no longer double parked, giving him a better view of the other truck. Kurt spots a group of people he didn’t know coming into view, walking out of the big pink house across the street from his own. _Oh,_ he thinks, mentally kicking himself, _that makes more sense._

The house had been on the market for quite a while, the old owners decided to sell months ago so they could move to a retirement home down in Florida. Kurt saw the house from his room every day, but somehow never noticed that the big, red “For Sale” sign was gone. Well, at least it cleared the mystery of the second moving Uhaul. 

Kurt’s eyes trailed over to the family, who stood just across from their yard, only about 10 yards away, and studied them for a moment. There was a woman, dressed a bit too professionally for a day of moving boxes, who couldn’t be older than her late thirties- he assumed she was the mother. A taller man stood next to her, clad in a black leather jacket and matching jeans, not looking old enough to be anyone’s father, but obviously older than Kurt was. He was gorgeous, anyone could see that, and Kurt might have paid more attention to his looks if he wasn’t so drawn to the younger boy standing next to the man, leaning against the side of the van. 

The bright red polo he was wearing was the thing that caught his eye first, and just as he was going to spit a remark about how overly flashy primary colors were, the boy turned around a bit and gave Kurt a partial view of his face. From this angle, he saw the curly mop of hair upon the boy's head, shaved neatly on the sides, and smiled inwardly. His polo shirt and cuffed chinos give off a pristine, put together vibe, but the messiness on top of his head gave off a sense of informality that Kurt found quite refreshing. The boy’s posture and seemingly laid back attitude is what drew Kurt in initially, mostly from curiosity, but the lazy grin is what kept him there. He was cute, of course, anyone within a fifty yard radius could see that, but there was something he couldn't quite place.

Before he even realized that he was staring, Kurt heard Finn clear his throat behind him. With a knowing smirk on his face, the taller says, “Dude, you’re staring. Why don’t you just go and introduce-”

“Absolutely not,” Kurt cuts him off, letting the curtain fall back against the windowsill, “And I was not staring, shut up.” He rolls his eyes, trying to convince himself more than Finn, and stalks out of the room, not missing the chuckle his step-brother lets out as he pushes past him. Walking back through the kitchen and up the stairs, jogging up two at a time, Kurt huffed, his mind still on The Cute Boy from the pink house across the street. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next time Kurt finds himself staring at The Cute Boy, it’s a complete accident. 

Two days after Finn and his mother move in, and after the family across the street moves in, the Hudson-Hummels’ have just finished their weekly Monday Night Dinner. It was something that Burt suggested they do to get closer “as a family”, long before they decided to move in together, and even though Finn put up a small bit of protest, it became something everyone looked forward to. 

Although, at tonight’s dinner, the topic of Finn’s grades came up, and Kurt was excused from the table early. He left willingly, of course, heading up to his room to try and get something productive done, maybe finish up some reading for his AP English Class. It only worked for a while, before his attention continued wandering anywhere but where it should have been, so he decided that he should go out to the porch to clear his mind a bit. When his mother was still alive, she would sit out there with him and read to him, so maybe feeling closer to her would help him focus better. 

Kurt rushed down the stairs, book in hand, not wanting to get caught in his family’s conversion, and quietly let himself out of the front door, leaning back in to turn on the porch light before letting himself out and shutting the door behind him. 

As soon as he turned away from the door, about to sit down at the bench, Kurt’s eyes drifted to the pink house across the street, and he immediately saw- _oh shit-_ The Cute Boy sitting on his own porch. He sat with one leg crossed over the other on his knee, softly strumming- _oh-_ an acoustic guitar, occasionally looking down at his phone that sat beside him. Kurt stood in place for a moment, only a bit stunned that someone else was sitting out there at this hour, but quickly went to sit once he realized how long he’d been staring, grateful that the boy never looked up and saw him. 

Kurt was able to situate himself for a while, sitting down and getting through about five or six pages before the strumming got louder, then stopped completely. He let his eyes flicker up over his book and watched through hooded eyelids as the boy set his guitar down beside him and picked his phone up. For a while, he sat like that, looking at his phone and smiling every so often. His smile, Kurt thought, was pretty adorable. But who was he kidding? He was probably straight, and it’s not like they’d ever talk to each other. 

But just _looking_ was harmless, right? 

Kurt could live with that. 

And he did, for a couple of weeks at least. Or, to be exact, seventeen days and twelve situations where Kurt found himself and The Cute Boy in the exact same place they had been in on the first night. Only, the next instances were all meticulously planned on Kurt’s part- he’d look out of the window, as discreetly as possible, to see if The Cute Boy was outside, and whenever he was, he’d grab a book or his laptop for cover and hurry out there. 

Tonight, Kurt peaked out of the window a bit earlier than usual. Finn had friends over- Mike, Sam, and Artie- and while Kurt did enjoy kicking their asses in video games they were _so sure_ he didn’t know how to play, he couldn’t stand the familiar boyish stench radiating from his brother’s bedroom any longer. Plus, their parents were out, so he was bored out of his mind. Which is why, when he looked out of the window to find no one sitting on the porch across the street, he went outside anyway, figuring that there was no reason for him not to.

Only about fifteen minutes after he got himself situated outside, both feet on the bench with his laptop balanced on his knees, he saw the porch light to the pink house across the street flicker on. Kurt's eyes widened when he saw light from the inside of the house, but didn’t dare tear his gaze away from the computer until it went away. 

Slowly, he shifted he position slightly, leaning farther toward the street, and let his eyes drift over to where- _of fucking course-_ The Cute Boy is sitting on his own porch, legs criss-crossed on the bench with a notebook on his lap and guitar by his side, scribbling something down and then strumming a few notes every so often. His hair is in a tangled, disheveled mess on top of his head, and he’s clad in only- _oh-_ sweatpants and a tshirt that couldn’t have been his, it was far too big. It was such a contrast from what Kurt usually saw him in, the ironed khakis and button-up polos, but he thought it was adorable. 

Looking was okay, especially if you never got caught. 

After about ten minutes of what he thinks is totally-secret-discreet-gazing at The Cute Boy every few moments, not even being able to focus on the homework he initially came outside to finish up, an SUV with blindingly bright headlights rounded the street corner, slowly driving towards them. When the boy across the street didn’t look up from his guitar, Kurt didn’t turn his gaze from the boy. It was a subconscious decision, but he was sure he wouldn’t look away either way. 

Keeping his eyes trained in the same direction, all Kurt saw as the car passed was the bright headlights. Once it was gone, he noticed that his eyes had become blurred from staring too long. Kurt blinked a few times, ignoring the tiny white spots dotting behind his eyelids, and when his vision resurfaced, he looked up to find The Cute Boy staring right back at him, his eyebrows raised questionably and head tilted just a bit to the left. 

Kurt, mentally kicking himself for not being more inconspicuous, froze in place as he felt his face heat up as the undeniable blush rose high on his cheeks. They stayed like that, their eyes locked on each other, unmoving, until the boy raised his arm and waved, plastering a sweet grin onto his face. Kurt waved back, flustered and awkward, and only let out the ragged breath he was holding in once The Cute Boy turned away. 

For about five more minutes, Kurt sat blinking dumbly at his laptop, debating on whether he should just get up and go back inside- he didn’t want to make it even more obvious that he was embarrassed, and leaving too quickly would make it all that more apparent Finally, after pretending to type random words on the keyboard, he glanced across the street once more before kicking his legs off of the bench and standing up, briskly moving back inside the house. 

Looking, as it turned out, was not okay, especially since it’ll get you caught. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 _Three days._

It took Kurt three days to even _want_ to go back out to the porch, and another four days to even take the time to go back out there. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed about what had happened, he just didn’t ever want to show his face or risk seeing The Cute Boy again. Yeah, not embarrassed _at all._

_ So not embarrassed,  _ that when he got home from school seven days after  _ it  _ happened, Kurt decided that going back outside would be good for him- spending all of his time holed up in his room, totally not hiding, had never been his style. Rushing upstairs to throw his bag and coat down on his bed almost as soon as he got home, wanting to get out there before his dad got home, so that, if he did end up  _ totally accidentally  _ having another run-in with The Cute Boy, he’d have a valid excuse to go back inside. Going outside during the day, of course, was beneficial either way, because there was a much lower chance of having to adjust your eyes to the dark and taking so long that the boy you were staring at would catch you. 

But Kurt wasn’t avoiding anyone, or embarrassed, not at all. 

Grabbing his sketchbook and supply box- a gift from his Advanced Art instructor for being such a model student- he moved to head downstairs. With a quick once-over, checking to see if Finn was home, Kurt walked out of the front door backwards, his hands too occupied to push the door open himself. He pulled it closed with just the tips of his fingers, almost dropping the things in his hands when he gets it shut, and then spins around on his heel, turning to face the bench before-  _ oh god, oh god, not again-,  _ out of the corner of his eye, Kurt spots a familiar head of curls and bright, painfully primary colored polo across the street, and only then does he notice the soft sound of-  _ you have got to be kidding me-  _ an all too familiar acoustic guitar. 

The music stops suddenly, and only when Kurt realizes that he’d been standing frozen for far too long does it click in his mind that-  _ fuck, fuck, fuck-  _ The Cute Boy must have seen him, which was the one thing he was trying to avoid. 

After a small internal debate, he figures that just doing what he came outside to do would be the most reasonable, and least suspicious, because if he actually had been seen, it would be too obvious about why he was going back inside. Or, at least, that’s what his brain told him, because it’s not all like a part of Kurt wanted to stare just a bit longer, nothing like that at all. 

Five minutes pass and Kurt is practically doing everything he can to not let his eyes flicker up across his sketchbook to across the street-  _ it’s the primary colors, that’s it, duh-,  _ wanting to save himself from the embarrassment of last week. In broad daylight, it'll most likely be much worse, but Kurt’s never been one to have much self control. Especially not in cute-boy-that-might-be-gay-and-lives-across-the-street situations- not that there’s too many of those. After a few moments of listening to the steady strumming patterns from across the street to figure out when The Cute Boy  _ definitely  _ wasn’t paying attention, he looks up, then averts his gaze after a beat. Then once more, then twice, and on the third time, his eyes are met with the boy already staring right back at him-  _ jesus fucking christ, oh god- _ , smiling wide and welcoming and waving, and it takes everything in Kurt to tear his eyes away again.

After a few minutes, it happens again, and again, and again, where Kurt would look up and smile, seeing that The Cute Boy was already looking over at him, leaving him to wonder why this was nowhere near as bad as it was the week prior. Not that he was complaining, of course.

Soon, however, Kurt’s father came home, the sound of the car’s wheels dragging along the gravel near the driveway making him more alert of the fact he was probably being extremely creepy, and judging by the knowing look in Burt’s eyes, he could tell. Kurt gathered up his art supplies, hurriedly following his father through the front door, but not before he turned around to throw The Cute Boy a shy smile and a wave, disappearing into his house. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i lol'ed

chapter two [question mark] (?)

hello. 


End file.
